


Smile

by Nigaishin



Series: what goes around... [2]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Domestic, Funny, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaishin/pseuds/Nigaishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg has a new camera. Pure silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on LJ in 2005.  
> Betas: blackangel_life and redleaf0  
> Very theorically set after "Couch".

 

Hodges came back home and was puzzled at the lack of Greg Sanders bubbling around.

At the silence too.

He shrugged and decided he must have headed over at Nick's or something, and didn't break his head on it.

He could use some quiet, anyway.

He walked into the kitchen, trying to remember if there was anything edible left in the fridge, and something weird happened.

A movement caught his attention and he glanced sideways.

He barely had the time to see two feet at the height of his hip when he stumbled into something, bracing himself on the table before he could meet the floor face first.

He swore and blinked down, and a flash and a snicker met his surprised expression.

"... Greg?" he gaped at the prone figure on the floor.

His lover was lying on his back with his legs propped up against the fridge, his iPod on and a digital camera in his hands.

David recognized that camera.

He hated that camera.

So he glared at the camera, and then shifted his eyes to meet Greg's as he straightened up a bit.

"Hiya!" came the giddy reply, and there was another flash.

He slit his eyes, turning his head away.

"What the hell are you doing down there?" he asked, slightly miffed at what he knew was Greg's attempt to kill him.

"Oh, nothing really. Smile," he grinned up, and shoot another photo, "Sofia mentioned this. We had been standing over at that crime scenes for hours, and she said this helped relaxing. So I decided to try it."

David thrummed his fingers on the fridge door, trying to will his urge to strangle his lover away as said lover took yet another photo.

"And the camera?" he gritted his teeth.

Deep breaths. You can't kill him. Deep breaths. Most of his friends are CSIs. You can't kill him.

"Oh... I was getting bored. The iPod's great, but the lady downstairs started hitting the ceiling with a broom again when I decided to hum along with the songs, so..." he shrugged a bit and shot him an impish grin before taking another pic, carefully forgetting to mention the part where he had gone from humming to blaring lyrics out.

"Greg..." David growled, tapping his feet with his fingers, "Stop that. And I need to get something in here. Feet off."

Greg sniffed back and bent his legs so that Dave could open the fridge door, ignoring the dark look he was thrown before Hodges moved to stand over him, feet on each side of Greg's hips.

"Try not to make this too easy, will ya, Sanders," he grumbled, and started rummaging through the fridge. A bright, white, glaring nothing welcomed him.

"'the hell, did you raid the fridge again?" he gaped a bit, shifting half-empty jars of unidentified contents and cans of soft drinks and beers, "I thought you didn't like salad! I know I left something behind yesterday!"

Greg didn't even bother to listen to him, he had since long learnt Hodges would mutter to himself a lot when he was alone or with him, and did not require any interaction to go on with his rants.

"... hey, Dave. Do you have a middle name?" he wondered, scrolling through the pics he had just shot, amazed.

"No. Pickles. What the hell do we need pickles for if we don't have anything to eat them with?!" he went for the drawers.

"Oh. Because, you know, this is like reading Calvin and Hobbes. How do you do tha..." he looked up and saw his lover bending forward slightly, trying to reach something in one of the drawers, "... oh."

Fuck the Calving and Hobbes pics and the way David's scrouched up face looked just like Calvin's.

He took a nice shot of Dave's ass and then another.

"How do I do what?" Hodges turned a bit to look over his shoulder, realized what Greg was doing and scrambled back, coming to lean against the counter and glaring down at him, "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled, grabbing the edge of the counter hard.

He so hated that camera.

"Trying to make up for your inner Calvin," Greg replied calmly, closing the fridge door with his feet and settling back in his original position.

"Sanders..." he growled back.

"Yes?" was the amused answer, and still Greg didn't lower the camera.

"Whatever. You're a sick, sick person. Just to let you know." he scowled and stalked out of the room, grititng his teeth when Greg took yet another pic of him as he stepped over him to reach the door.

Greg waited a couple of minutes before scurrying after him.

He found Dave in the bathroom in the middle of taking off his clothes. It was a good angle, he could see both his front and back thanks to the mirror over the sink.

His lover still had a scowl on his face, which only made Greg grin wider as he took the picture.

David jumped a bit, startled, and spun around.

"SANDERS!" he howled and chased him out until it was clear he wasn't coming back-- at least for now.

"I'm telling you, I'm going to stick that camera so far up your ass you'll be taking shots of your larynx, if you don't stop!" he added for a good measure, and stomped back to take his blasted shower.

"... ooh, look, you can make small clips too!" came Greg's excited voice from the next room just before David turned on the hot water, and groaned.

~fin


End file.
